Because We Can Find Happiness In Our Pain
by Threaded Needles
Summary: Mentions of ptsd, anxiety, and depression. Most days are a struggle, simply getting through the day, but together they're twice as strong. Best friends stick with you through thick and thin.
1. Chapter 1

"Here."

A steaming cup of chai tea was thrust under his nose, and he folded his hands around it while she removed her icy hands away from it.

She turned back to the kitchen, hips swishing with each step. "How was therapy today?" She asked, lumping cookie dough onto the baking sheet.

He shrugged. Like therapy, he guessed. "It was okay."

She threw the cookies into the oven and turned back to him, where he was straddling the bar stool and hadn't even touched his chai. He let his finger trail the rim, but made no attempt to drink it.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He shrugged again. "They want to switch my meds, for like the third time or whatever. And maybe group therapy and have some sort of family therapy, maybe put me back in the crazy bin for a couple of weeks."

She flipped her blonde braid of her shoulder, leaning against the island. "What'd you tell them?"

"I said I'd do group and I'll let them switch my meds if they think it'll help but I'm not doing family therapy. No amount of "it'll help you" will make me change my mind." Angry, he tipped the chai over. She watched it leak against the spotless counters before grabbing paper towels to clean it up.

She mopped the liquid up while he tapped his fingers against his thighs. After she threw the sopping wet towels away, he apologized.

"It's not a big deal, I'd be upset too." The timer dinged and she checked her cookies before pouring him something else to drink. Fruit punch. He sighed heavily.

"Yeah but when you get upset you don't throw people's shit around."

She sighed and cupped his face in her hands. "You're perfectly fine. I hated that cup anyways."

She scraps the burnt cookies off the pan and onto a sheet of wax paper, turning toward him. She turns on the faucet, filling a glass and sets it near him, then his pill bottles and vitamins. He groans and unscrews the cap to dump the capsules in his palm.

She has two neat little white pills, while he has four different colors steady in his hand.

She takes hers first and then fixes her braid. He feels like he's in some sort of cult when he takes the pills. It was her idea a few years ago, to make them feel a little less bad about taking medication.

"Okay, I've gotta finish some homework, you rest up," She hugs his head and turns back into her room.

The next day, Elsa had two classes and then work, so he'd be home alone for five hours before his class at one. He decided to go grocery shopping when he opened the fridge and all they had was an unopened package of cream cheese (presumably for the one bagel they had left) and applesauce cups.

He grabbed a coat and gloves before heading out. He had no idea why Elsa would want to live in Michigan of all places. Sure, cold never bothered her, but cold sure as hell bothered him. It was snowing when he exited the apartment. Holiday music blasted out of crackling speakers.

The store was busy. People raced around looking for gifts frantically, or talked loudly on phones, looking for the last box of macaroni.

He grabbed things quickly just to check out, and almost bumped into someone.

"Sorry," He said, grabbing a bag of apples and some carrrots. The guy he'd rammed his cart into was also reaching for the carrots. The only other thing in his hands were rope, trashbags, and bleach. Hans gave a tentative smile before going to the checkout.

Both him and Elsa were from rich families, so money was never really an issue. Still he hated relying on Elsa's trust fund when his family suddenly decided to stop the flow of cash.

"Merry Christmas and Happy New Year," The cashier said, giving a bright smile. Her tag said a funny, long name and he rolled his eyes before collecting his bags and driving home.

He almost did a double take when he walked into the apartment. Elsa was wearing pajama pants and one of his shirts, sloppy braid down while she read.

"Class is cancelled," She said flatly, marking her page.

"Good to know." He put the bags on the counter.

She began to take care of the things, him putting away things she couldn't reach.

"What time do you have to work?"

"Six to nine," She let her fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

He grabbed her hand, it was starting to tickle. "How about we watch a movie then?"

She let out a sigh. "Okay. You find a movie and I'll make snacks."

He flipped through the DVD collection and scrolled through Netflix, unsure what she'd want to watch. He eventually put in Titanic, because it was easy to drown out and Elsa's singing rivaled Celine Dion's. While he set it up she came back with pretzels and her burnt cookies. Tentatively he took a cookie.

"Oh, Titanic!"

He rolled his eyes and laid on the couch, while she sat near his feet, absorbed in Leonardo DiCaprio at his finest.

He nods off after Jack shows her the drawings and he wakes back up with her shaking him, pining her hair up for her restaurant shift.

"Take your meds at eight, water only. And I made you sandwiches for dinner."

"Thanks, you're the bestest friend I could ever ask for,"He said, cracking his neck.

She gave a tight, forced smile.

"Okay, well, bye," She gave him an awkward hug, smudging her concealer.

After she left he turned off the tv, tidied the room up and ate the peanut, honey, and banana sandwich she made him, then flipped through the mail with a book balanced on his knee.

At eight he took his meds and went to bed, ignoring the nagging feeling that told him he should stay up and make sure Elsa was okay.

She woke him up when she got home anyway.

"I need to tell you something," She says anxiously, and he almost snaps and tells her to just wait until the morning except he's already awake and if he pulled this on her she'd be making tea and cuddling him while he cries his shriveled little heart out.

"What's wrong?"

She wrings her hands together, biting her lip. "Anna called. She wants me to come back home for the holidays. And I just don't think it'd be a good idea."

"Why not?" They had a good relationship, even if Anna was a bit overbearing. He presses his palms over his eyes. "Let's go out to the living room, I'll make you some tea."


	2. Chapter 2

After he made her Chamomile tea, helped her get her hair out the constricting updo, and draped a fuzzy blanket over her shivering shoulders did she begin to talk, after gentle prodding.

"So, why don't you want to see Anna, I thought you guys were closer after..." He trails off, not wanting to mention the mental institution home.

"Well, yeah, but we're just so different. Like night and day." She takes a deep, shuddering breath, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes. "She's getting married next year and I can't find it in me to be happy for her. I want to, really, but she's just so impulsive and naïve."

He leaned back against the couch arm, thinking. "Why don't you invite her to stay here? Obviously you want to see her."

"And stay in this tiny apartment?" She asks, hiccuping. She wipes the snot from her nose with a tissue while he shrugs. He didn't think it was that small, to be honest.

"Sure, we could drag the mattresses out into the living room and have a sleepover, and then open gifts on Christmas."

"That could be... fun," She admits, biting her lip. She throws herself into his arms, giving him a hug that he's not entirely sure how to respond to.

The next day she called Anna to make plans, while he cleaned anxiously. Something about holidays put him on edge, and it annoyed him how Elsa was such a slob.

"I was gonna get the dishes," She said, raising an eyebrow at him scrubbing dishes in bleach solution.

"Nah, I got it, you rest," He said, dipping his hands back in the scalding mixture, dragging a rag across the mess of the pot.

"Uhm-"

"Go. Rest." He repeated, harshly.

She bites her lips, but nods and grabs a juice pouch from the fridge. He continues to scrub until everything is sparkling, then he dries, takes care of the dishes, wipes the counters, sweeps and mops the floors.

"Uh, wow," Elsa murmurs, looking at the spotless kitchen. "I didn't know you liked to holiday clean."

"Not usually," he admitted, rubbing his cracked hands against his jeans.

"Well, it looks great, but Anna doesn't really care about presentation. I doubt her and Kristoff would care if this place looked like a pig pen."

"Kristoff?"

"The fiancé."

"Yeah, but that's... a different name." Hans frowned. Where were these names from anyways? "Did you grow up in Norway?"

"My parents did."

Hans raised an eyebrow. Why the fuck would they move to Michigan. Why would he move to Michigan. Right, foreign exchange student program.

"Isn't your family from like Denmark or something?"

"Yes," He replied shortly. "When will Anna and... Kristoff be here?"

"Tomorrow evening."

She glanced at the clock before grabbed their pill bottles from the cabinet, dumping his onto a neat pile on the counter.

"Do you have work tomorrow?"

"No, I gave my shift away so you didn't have to deal with Anna alone. But don't forget, we're doing joint therapy together tomorrow."

He knocked back half his pills, wincing. "I look forward to it."

Elsa smiled, playing with her hair strands before she took her medication and he finished his.

"Are you ready for bed or do you want to watch a movie or something?"

He checked his phone. Barely past eight, and he was dead tired, probably from his sleeping pills, but Elsa looked so hopeful, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

"Yeah, sure, why don't we go out?"

Her cheeks darken further. "Right now?"

"Yeah, grab your coat, we never eat together any more."

She goes into her room to get her coat, and comes out with her make up done and hair done with a ribbon and pinned up. She quickly buttons the blue coat that drops to mid thigh, concealer barely hiding her flushed cheeks. "Okay, let's go."

He grabs a scarf, practically asleep from where he was waiting on the couch, and wraps around his neck hurriedly while she clambors down the apartment stairs.

Christmas lights blinked from where they were strung across lamp poles and store signs, glimmering in the white snow. The sidewalks were salted so he didn't have to worry about slipping and falling on his ass, thankfully. "Okay, so do you want to like, go to a cafe real quick?"

"Oh, sure."

They sat inside a warmly lit Thai Cafe. Some waitresses bustled around, but it was mostly empty when they slid into the seats.

"Bubble tea," Elsa said warmly, to the waitress. He didn't know what the fuck bubble tea was, but he didn't understand anything on the menu, so he ordered the same thing.

"I thought you didn't like tapioca?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't."

She made a face, but he stopped caring because he's too tired to give a shit. He should have just had a sleepover where they drag her mattress into the living room and they crash watching Breakfast Club.

He dozes while they wait, and she chats aimlessly about work and how pretty snow is.

"If you're tired why'd you wanna go out?"

"Because you wanted to," He replied, running a hand through his hair. He sipped at the newly arrived drinks, pursing his lips at the tapioca pearl in his mouth. He swallowed it before Elsa could say anything.

"That's sweet, we could have just stayed in."

"We do that every day. Needed a change of pace."

He threw his out before he was half way done, and she decided to carry hers out rather than make him suffer. There walk back was mostly quiet, until Elsa caught sight of ice skating in townsquare, and let out an audible sigh of awe.

"You wanna go?"

"You're tired, let's just go home," She said, shaking her head. But her grabbed her hand anyways, pulling her towards the activity.


	3. Chapter 3

He wakes up to Anna's really annoying screech on the phone that Elsa has tucked professionally between her shoulder and ear. He groans and pulls the pillow over his head, ignoring the fact that they're sharing her bed.

"Happy twenty-second birthday!" Anna yells, and he hates her so much at this moment. He's never going to bed late again.

"Thanks, Anna, but we're still getting around, don't you have a flight to catch?"

"Twenty minutes, but if you guys are having sex I can hang up."

Elsa let out an exasperated sigh, "Goodbye Anna."

"Wear a condom-!"

She ended the call and tossed her phone back on her nightstand, flopping back into the pillows and puts her arms around him.

"Any more bad dreams?" She asks, mouth hot between his shoulder blades.

He rolls over so he's facing her, her hair in a messy, sleepy braid. "No. What time is it?"

"Nine-ish."

"What time is our therapy appointment?"

She checks her phone, glancing at the calender. "Eleven."

"You can shower first," He offers, getting out the bed. The blanket that he had brought in falls off the edge when Elsa steps down. She only ever sleeps with sheets, so whenever they share a bed because of his nightmares, he has to bring in a blanket.

"Oh, thanks."

She walks off to shower while he tidies up the bed and goes off to make breakfast. Despite Elsa doing most of the cooking, he does know how to cook without burning food, so he pops bagels in the toaster and gets their pills around. Water for him, milk for her.

She walks in wearing a short, sparkly blue dress that he thinks Anna might have sent in a package for her birthday last week. Her hair is half dried and in a braid down her back when she sits to eat her bagel and drink her milk.

"You, uh, look beautiful."

She hasn't applied make-up yet, so her face flushes dark red and she mumbles a thank you before getting up with her tubes of lipstick and mascara.

"Why do you wear it?" He asks, while she runs the point of dark red against her lips. He changes shirts while she switches to her mascara and liquid eyeliner, staring at him through the mirror.

"It makes me feel pretty."

"But you are pretty."

She applies blotches of concealer over dark spots and some pink pimples. "Yeah, well that's you. Not everyone thinks my morning after face is the most gorgeous thing in the world."

After they're dressed and have everything done and taken care of, they head out to the therapist's. Elsa drives because his medication makes him tired and he only drives during the afternoon.

He's in the therapy room before he realizes it, blinking while the therapist smiles at them.

"Do you want to play a game?"

The therapist puts out a deck of cards, and they play war while they talk. Hans knows it's a way for them to get info, but he's beyond caring.

"How's college?"

He shrugs, flipping his next card over. Three, so he loses that round.

"Decide a major?"

When he doesn't answer, he asks Elsa.

"Maybe design or something." She replies. "Like clothes."

"Thought of anything Hans?"

He stops pulling out cards for a second. What did he want to do after college? First they worked towards getting into classes and now they were working towards getting into a field they liked.

"I've always liked... helping people?"

"Interesting. Anything in particular strike you?"

"Maybe, a doctor? Or a nurse, maybe. I'm not sure."

He flips an ace, so they push the cards toward him. "Anything else?"

He shrugs, and Elsa hesitates before shaking her head. The session ends.

Anna's flight comes in at four, so Hans drives this time since Elsa always gets emotionally exhausted after therapy. He remembers that he dated Anna briefly during highschool, but nothing ever really came out of it, so he couldn't imagine it being too awkward.

Anna came in wearing double braided pigtails, jeans, and a shirt with flower designs. "Oh my god, you look great," She says, to Elsa. Her hulk of a boyfriend nods to everyone.

The drive back was painfully slow.

"So you're fucking Hans Westergård?"

He doesn't know why his name is said like it's some sort of girl secret at a slumber party. Elsa had informed him that Anna thought they were friends with benefits, and he was too busy to argue with Anna.

"Actually, Anna, we're not together. We're just friends."

Anna giggles. "Yeah, sure, the way you talk about him."

Elsa visibly flushes, looking ready to throttle Anna. "I don't talk about him."

He notices her roll her eyes in the rear view mirror. "So what's the sleeping arrangements-"

"Me and you in my room, Kristoff and Hans in his," Elsa says bitterly. He should've known this was a bad idea.

"So I can't be with Kristoff?"

Elsa's silent, looking out the car window.

When they get home, Elsa skips out on dinner - Chinese from the place downtown - and goes to bed, in his room. Anna looks triumphant for a second before going back to her lemon chicken.


End file.
